


i'll be the dreadful need in the devotee

by soldierwitch



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, discussions of past bullying and homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 09:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: After a heart pounding, high speed chase complete with an exchange of gunfire, Kyle is having a hard time letting things lie the way they are with him and Alex. Either they're on the same page or they aren't, either they're partners or they aren't. He's gotta know because he's been trusting Alex with more than his life, and it feels like Alex doesn't trust him at all.Set in a nebulous, canon divergent season 1 before the Noah reveal. Title from Talk by Hozier.





	i'll be the dreadful need in the devotee

**Author's Note:**

> Huzzah! This labor of love and feelings is finally done. Gotta say, I'm proud of it. This was my first foray into untangling the threads of this relationship in something more than a drabble, and it was challenging! A welcome challenge though. I'm still getting the hang of their voices, but I feel like I did accomplish what I set out to do and convey in this fic, and for that I am most thankful because this ship is close to my heart, and I want to do them justice. 
> 
> Thank you to my rnm peeps for helping me iron out some bits in this fic. We're the little squad that could, and I'm so thankful to have you guys in this fandom. Loves, gentlefolks!

They’re speeding through the desert. An unidentified vehicle hot on their trail. Alex keeps looking over his shoulder checking that they’re maintaining their distance from whoever the fuck it is that’s chasing them. Kyle keeps looking to his right to look at Alex, gauging his reaction as they race across rocky terrain.

“We’re fifteen miles outside of town,” Alex says turning around. He opens the glove compartment and pulls out his service pistol, inserts its magazine, and checks the chamber.

“Shit,” Kyle says, pressing harder on the gas. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

The car is gaining.

“Kyle,” Alex says, firmly. “If I tell you to slow down, I need you to do what I say, okay?”

“What?!”

Alex looks over his shoulder one last time before rolling his window down and taking aim.

Kyle’s hands grip the steering wheel tighter as Alex fires. “This is not what I meant when I said I was good under pressure,” he mutters, feeling a little crazed with fear and adrenaline rushing through his veins. “What did you just shoot?”

“A warning shot,” Alex says, leaning away from the window as another shot rings out. “Seems they’re not going to heed it.”

“Alex,” Kyle yells, wishing he could press down on the gas pedal harder than he already is or maybe will the car to go faster. “This is not a Western. You just took a shot at a car and they shot back. We have no cell reception out here. There is alien tech sitting in a box in our backseat. And we have no idea if we’re going to make it home. I need you to be more than glib with me. What are we going to do?”

Alex just looks at him for a moment and then says, “Slow down.”

Before Kyle can argue, Alex interrupts asking, “Do you trust me?”

“Alex–”

“_Do you trust me? _”

“Yes,” Kyle says firmly.

“Then slow down.”

Kyle eases up on the gas as Alex leans back out the window.

Alex shoots twice. Dirt and sand erupt behind them as the unidentified vehicle veers sharply to the left, its front tire popped and uselessly trying to catch traction on the uneven ground.

“Floor it,” Alex yells and Kyle does just that speeding through the distance left to travel home, his eyes periodically peer up in the rear view mirror just in case. When they get back to the bunker, Kyle tosses his jacket into a chair and pushes it hard against the table.

“Kyle.”

He turns, nostrils flaring. “What the fuck was that,” he asks.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Alex says, setting the box with the piece of alien tech on the table.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kyle parrots in a whisper before scoffing and pulling the chair back out and flopping into it. He laughs quietly to himself and then looks up at Alex. “I’m a doctor. A _ doctor _, Alex.”

“I know.”

“Do you,” Kyle asks. “Because for weeks now you’ve had me investigating a serial killer of alien origins. I’ve had to confront hard truths about my father more than once. We just got shot at by a mysterious vehicle with God only knows who behind the wheel. And you seem”–he gestures toward him–”I don’t know. Fine. You seem fine, Alex. How are you fine?”

“I’m not fine.”

“Right,” Kyle says with a scoff. “Well, you have a hell of a good poker face then because I feel like I’m going out of my mind, and you just keep rolling with everything as if this is normal. We could have died.”

“But we didn’t.”

“For fuck’s sake, Alex. Look at me when you’re talking to me. Stop staring at whatever that is in that box and talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say,” Alex says, gently pushing the box to the side. “Shit happens.”

Kyle nods and stands. “Shit happens,” he asks, reaching over to grab the box. “So if I just pushed this onto the floor that’d just be more shit that happens, right?”

Alex grabs the box, too. “Kyle, what are you doing?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he says, mockingly, pulling on the box.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what,” Kyle asks. “We nearly got killed over this. What is it?”

Alex doesn’t answer.

“I stole for you today, Alex,” Kyle says. “I lied because you said it was necessary. I didn’t ask any questions; I just did what you said, but I’m asking now, and I expect an answer. What’s so special about this piece of glowing glass?”

“You’ve seen one of these before.”

Kyle hums in agreement. “But you didn’t tell me what it was.”

“And I’m not going to.”

Kyle lets go of the box. “Then I’m out,” he says, turning around to retrieve his jacket and shrug it on.

Alex grabs his wrist as he goes to walk by. “Don’t leave.”

“You’re not exactly giving me reasons to stay.”

“You owe me.”

Kyle cuts his eyes to Alex. “Yeah, that’s not how relationships work, Alex. I’m not an asshole kid anymore and you’re not the victim of my taunts or fists. I can’t fix what I did back then, and I’m not going to try to by doing whatever you need me to just because you say so. It’s not a partnership if one person has all the answers and the other one is left in the dark.”

“They aren’t my answers to give.”

“Of course,” Kyle says, catching on. “Because everything circles back to him. Look, I’m not dying for Michael Guerin, Alex. I’ll be damned.”

“You weren’t going to die.”

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

Alex’s grip tightens. “Because I was with you, okay? I wouldn’t…you’re safe with me.”

“Am I,” Kyle asks, turning fully to look Alex in the eyes. Alex’s fingers slip toward Kyle’s palm.

Kyle licks his lips and feels heat sizzle hot and slow across the nape of his neck as Alex’s eyes follow the path of his tongue.

“Yes,” Alex says as firmly as Kyle had answered when Alex asked if he trusted him.

“Don’t ever put me in a spot like that again without telling me what’s up.”

Alex nods and wets his lips, too. “Yeah. Okay. Promise.”

Kyle backs out of Alex’s hold, ignoring the shiver that runs through him as he does.

“I’ll drive you home,” Alex says.

“If you want,” Kyle says, attempting nonchalance but missing the mark.

Alex holds his hands out for the keys–their fingers brush with the exchange–and heads toward the exit.

Kyle follows, hand flexing by his side.

The box is left on its own. Its content glows soft but lonesome in the cold air.

As Alex drives down the calm streets of Roswell the adrenaline and fear Kyle had coursing through his veins ebbs. Music plays low on the radio, a gentle presence in their silence. Kyle watches as the last remnants of twilight slip into dusk. Night's shadows drift over the town, splashing its buildings with darkness and coaxing the streetlights on as people settle in for the evening.

Kyle lives in the lone house at the end of a cul-de-sac. It's a suburban dream with a porch light and swing. The kind of house he’s always wanted. Western Americana. All he needs is a dog, a spouse, and some kids and he'll have achieved what many in this country can only grasp at in their sleep. But nowadays, whenever Kyle looks at his house, he can't help but wonder if that’s even his dream anymore. His mom’s been talking to him about settling down with a nice girl and building a life. She likes the idea of him planting roots for a family, passing his name on, and cultivating his own legacy. She always says no pressure afterward, reminding him that a person’s worth is in how they make their days on this Earth matter, but he knows she wants more for him than what she had. A parent’s dream can be the hardest thing to live up to once their faults start to shine as bright and clear as your own.

Alex pulls up in front of the mailbox. He's been here a few times now, but Kyle's never had the courage to ask him if the house reminds him of their fathers. Of what they promised their mothers. Of how they failed. _ I live in a house filled with the hopes my father couldn't fulfill for my mother _ , Kyle wants to say to him. _ And I wonder if I'm going to disappoint someone the way he disappointed her. I wonder if it'll be similar to the way I disappointed you. _

Before Kyle can thank him for the ride, Alex turns the car off and asks if he can see Kyle to the door. The question startles a laugh out of Kyle until he realizes Alex is serious.

“I think I can get from your car to my door, Alex.”

“I know,” he says, not looking at him, hands in his lap. “But I'd feel better if you'd let me see you inside.”

“Why,” Kyle asks, confused.

Alex turns to him and gives him a weak smile. “You were right about my poker face. It's good, but it only holds for so long. And tonight was”--Alex blows out a breathe--“tonight shouldn't have happened. Wouldn't have happened had I been thinking clearly.”

“Probably not,” Kyle agrees. “But walking me to my door isn't going to change what happened.”

“No, but it'll make me feel like I did one thing right today at least.”

Kyle thinks back to the control Alex had when shooting. How sure he'd been about getting them out of the mess he'd made. “You said I'm safe with you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I believe you,” Kyle says getting out of the car. “If you need to walk me to my door for you to believe it, too, then by all means treat me like a teenage girl on a Friday night.”

Alex laughs under his breath. It makes Kyle smile as he digs his keys out of his pocket and heads up the driveway. Alex falls in step with him, absentmindedly knocking his shoulder against his.

“You're not funny,” he says.

“And yet you laughed at my joke anyway.”

“Force of habit...or at least it was.”

Kyle glances at Alex as they walk up the front steps. The warm, yellow glow from the porch light plays softly across Alex's face. The wind skips through his hair. Kyle wonders how young Alex would look, how young he'd feel, if he stopped playing at Atlas. "Have you thought about putting the world down for awhile," he asks. "Living a little?"

"I live," Alex says, offense all over his body language. His hands pull at the front of his jacket. He sneers a bit as he stops short, keeping his distance at the top of the step. 

"You obsess," Kyle says, turning around. "And most of the time you drink alone. You're hard to get a smile out of let alone a laugh."

Alex pauses, his head tips to the side before he licks his lips. His teeth peek through like the sun over the horizon until he's smiling somewhat, but it’s not a kind smile. “Just because I’m not drinking with you doesn’t mean I’m drinking alone. And have you ever thought it might be hard smiling and laughing around you given our history?”

“All the time,” Kyle answers honestly. “But I’m not the one who put that chip on your shoulder. I might have cracked it a bit more, but it’s not there because of me. All I’m saying is why continue carrying the burden of a past you’ve said you put behind you?”

“Wow,” Alex says, leaning against the porch post. “Kyle, I think that might be the most tone-deaf thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Kyle fiddles with his keys. He stepped wrong in this conversation, that’s clear, but he’s not ready to walk away from it yet. There are many things he wants to talk to Alex about, things that sit in the recesses of his mind, things that he’s analyzed and analyzed overthinking context and verbiage, but he settles on what feels closest to the surface, what’s been sitting on his tongue waiting to be spoken.

“I am not the scared, freaked out, cowardly kid I was in high school,” Kyle says. “I wish I could tell you that I carried guilt over my actions back then, but I didn’t. You were a stubborn, bullheaded, know-it-all who had yourself all figured out, and you jutted your chin at anyone who dared to make you feel less than. I hated you for it. And I couldn’t be you. I couldn’t be near someone who didn’t give a damn about what other people thought because I cared a hell of a lot, and I didn’t want to be the friend of the gay kid. I didn’t want to be a social pariah because you felt compelled to be different when all I wanted to do was blend in. So I was an asshole, and I took my anger over losing my best friend out on you.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Alex says standing up straight and stepping forward. “You pushed me away. Literally. On countless occasions. You froze me out, and you mocked my choice of clothing and my taste in music and my--”

“Sexuality,” Kyle says. “I know. And time doesn’t change that but you can’t say you're past it and at the same time hold my feet to the fire every time you disagree with me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Yes, you are,” Kyle says, insistent. “I screwed up; I know that. Fucked doesn’t even begin to describe what I did, but you chose to work with me. You keep choosing to work with me, so something’s gotta give because I hate feeling like I’m 17 and disappointing you all over again. I feel like I have to continuously prove to you that I’m not going to leave you standing there alone and hurt and angry at the world. Because let’s be honest, you're angry, Alex, you're always angry. And if you're not angry you're cold.”

Alex makes a face. It’s the same one he’s made since they were kids. Kyle has always thought of it as his leaving face. It’s a telegraphed, involuntary expression of Alex’s fight or flight reflex and Alex has always chosen flight. When Kyle had heard Alex joined the Air Force, the irony of it made him laugh, but it’s not funny. It’s never been funny how easily Alex turns away from confrontation, choosing not to deal with things when he feels out of control or unable to see the endgame.

“Do not run from me,” Kyle says, stepping forward. “We don’t run from each other. Not anymore. We made a commitment, and I plan to stick to it. I plan to get answers. Our fathers hurt people, Alex. And I know I was terrible to you, and I am sorry for that but if you can’t find a way to see me as the man I am instead of the boy I was then I don’t know how we can do this. Every time we go out there, investigating a lead that we’ve found, I am putting my life in your hands. I am trusting you. But you aren’t trusting me and--”

“Trust is earned,” Alex says, interrupting. “And I’m not going to stand here and listen to you justify what you did to me. A decade between who you were and who you are doesn’t change what happened. Do you know what it’s like looking at you? I mean really looking at you?”

Alex gestures, sweeping his hand up and down in the air. “You are an upstanding citizen. A model of what every community wants for its men. You care about people, about their well-being and their lives. You invest energy into paying attention to their needs and when you ask someone how they’re doing you genuinely want to hear the answer. That is decent. That makes you a decent man. But when I see you, I see both my best friend and my tormentor.”

With a sigh, Alex says, “I remember how fun you were and how cruel you were. I remember having to get used to not telling you things. Of not having you be the first person I wanted to tell when something good happened to me or something bad because a lot of the time you were the bad, Kyle. I had to get used to not having my best friend anymore, and I’m not going to tell you that it’s fine or that all is forgiven because it’s not. I don’t forgive you, but I don’t think you need my forgiveness for this to work. Do you?”

As Kyle’s thinking on his answer he realizes how close he and Alex are standing. They’re nearly sharing a breath. The air feels charged between them, and Kyle feels like he’s been transported back to the past. When he was young and uncomfortable about the way his body reacted to his best friend. About how he started noticing how soft Alex’s hair was and how sweet he found his smile. They’d be sitting in their clubhouse, almost too big for it, and Alex would make excuses for why they should stay longer and Kyle would let him because he didn’t want to leave Alex’s side. They were best friends, but Kyle knew he felt more than friendly toward Alex and that didn’t make any sense to him because boys like girls that’s how it’s always been and that’s how he’s always felt or at least he thought so but Alex confused all of that, and Kyle didn’t want to be confused. He wanted to know and what he knew was that there was only room for what his life was supposed to be not what it could be. He doesn’t feel that way anymore. 

“No,” Kyle says, finally. “I think I need my own forgiveness.” He closes his eyes and kisses Alex like thirteen year old him would have when they went camping in his backyard and Alex was excited to tell ghost stories by the light of their lantern. Like fourteen year old him would have after Alex’s first guitar showcase and smattering of applause. Like fifteen year old him would have had he been brave enough to let himself fall in love with his best friend.

For a brief moment, Alex kisses him back and then Kyle feels himself being pushed away. He steps back, opens his eyes. 

Alex is wide-eyed, the back of his fist is up against his mouth. His breathing is somewhat erratic as he stares at Kyle. “What the fuck?”

Sound comes rushing back to Kyle which is a strange sensation since he hadn’t even realized it’d left. He can hear the crickets in the grass and the car starting down the street. The muffled booming of bass coming from somewhere behind his house, someone is having a party. And he can hear his own breath, the deep inhale and exhale as he looks at Alex, and Alex looks at him.

“I’m…,” Kyle fidgets with his keys, takes another step back. “That is not how I wanted to tell you, Alex. You just looked...And I just wanted…”--Kyle takes in Alex’s reddening eyes and the frown that’s peeking out from behind his fist--”You know what? It doesn’t matter what I wanted. I’m sorry. I should...I should go. Thank you, um, for the ride and for seeing me to my door.”

Kyle turns around and sticks his key in its lock, turning it and twisting the knob.

Before he can open the door, Alex says, “I thought you said we don’t run from each other anymore. Or does that only apply to me?”

Kyle freezes and then plunks his head against his door. “It doesn’t just apply to you,” he mutters.

“Then look at me when I’m talking to you.”

He releases a breath and then turns around leaning against his door for support. 

“Why did you kiss me,” Alex asks.

“Because I’ve always wanted to,” Kyle admits.

“Are you telling me you’re a walking cliche?”

Alex looks fearless on Kyle’s porch. And angry, there’s always anger somewhere in Alex, bubbling or simmering sometimes exploding. Kyle has told him that conversations aren’t wars fought between two people at a crossroads but that hasn’t stopped Alex from looking like Ares, rearing for a battle. Kyle doesn’t plan to give him one.

“I’m telling you that growing up has a way of kicking the stupid out of you.”

Alex laughs in disbelief. “You do realize _ that _ was stupid, right? That was unbelievably stupid.”

“No more stupid than you kissing me back.”

Kyle knows that comment will bury its way beneath Alex’s skin because it’s true, and Alex has always hated being caught out.

“You can’t just kiss people.”

“I didn’t kiss people; I kissed you,” Kyle says. “Because I wanted to, because I always want to, because I still do.”

Alex’s eyes flick down to Kyle’s lips and then return to his gaze. “This isn’t forgiveness.”

Kyle shrugs, glad for the door supporting him. “It doesn’t need to be.”

With a nod, Alex whispers, “Okay,” and then kisses Kyle. It’s a little rough and fast like the only way Alex knows how to kiss is to rush through it as if he’s got minutes before something good is going to be ripped away from him. Kyle cups his cheek, careful of the keys in his hand, and slows the kiss down until he’s just leaving soft pecks against Alex’s lips.

Kyle leans his forehead against Alex’s and catches his breath. "Is your duffle in your trunk," he asks.

"Yeah," Alex says, lost at the non-sequitur and a little dazed from the kiss. "Why?"

"You have that meeting with your CO in the morning, and I don't want to make you late," Kyle says, twisting the knob behind him and pulling Alex by his jacket into the house.

"How would you--"

Kyle pushes the door closed and presses Alex against it, kissing him again before asking, “Do you trust me?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Alex?”

Alex tips his head up and sighs. “More than I should,” he says. “More than you have a right to.”

“Can I earn the right to?”

When Alex says he doesn’t know, Kyle feels his heart squeeze. He moves to step back, but Alex stops him with a hand against his waist.

“But against my better judgement,” Alex says. “I want you to keep trying.”

Kyle smiles and then pauses. “Why against your better judgement?”

“Because you have the power to hurt me, and that’s not a power I want anyone to have.”

Kyle’s eyebrows furrow. “I can’t promise you that’s not going to happen. No one can.”

“I know,” Alex says. “But that’s how I feel. You are both safe and unsafe. A paradox.”

“Well,” Kyle says, sliding a hand into Alex’s hair. “How about tonight, I just be Kyle and you be Alex? No sins between us. No tainted legacies to unravel. No questions to answer or explanations to give. Just…”--He brushes his lips against Alex’s--”Just two people coming in from a long day looking for something to make it better.”

Alex snorts and looks away. “Are you saying you’re the better?”

“No, I’m saying you are.”

His gaze returns to Kyle’s, “Was that a line,” he asks, nose wrinkling. “Did you just use a line on me?”

“I was being serious,” Kyle says. “But sure make fun of me.”

“You deserve it that was gross.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “Says the man who wanted to _ see me inside _.”

Alex jerks back, head knocking lightly against the door. “I was being a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Kyle whispers, voice going husky as he leans toward Alex’s mouth. “Well, I never asked you to be a gentleman with me.”

“Again with the lines.”

“Shut up,” Kyle says kissing Alex and tugging him forward. Navigating his house while walking backward is a bit of a feat, but Kyle’s determined to make it to his bedroom _ and _ keep his lips attached to some part of Alex’s body as he goes. Mouth, ears, neck. His lips, his tongue. He wants a taste of everything, something to sate his hunger.

They stumble into Kyle’s bedroom. Alex pushes Kyle onto the bed and shucks his jacket, his shirt rising up with the motion. Kyle finds his teeth ache to bite him there.

“How many men have you been with,” Alex asks, unbuckling his belt.

Kyle raises an eyebrow and pulls Alex forward by his belt loops, kissing his stomach as he helps him take his shirt off.

“More than just you,” he says.

“You haven’t been with me yet.”

Kyle huffs a laugh and scoots back on the bed. “I’m working on that, smart ass.”

“Maybe you should work harder,” Alex smirks, crawling after him and slotting himself between Kyle’s legs.

“I’d rather work smarter,” Kyle says and thrusts up.

Alex grunts, caught off-guard.

“Is that okay,” Kyle asks, remembering what’s comfortable for him may not be comfortable for Alex.

With a shaky nod, Alex adjusts Kyle so that he’s not bearing so much weight on his prosthetic.

Kyle runs his hands down Alex’s back and grinds against him again. His hands slot into the back of Alex’s pants, slipping under his underwear to grab at his ass.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Kyle says, licking a stripe up Alex’s neck. He hums a smile against his Adam’s apple which bobs as Alex laughs.

“You’re not funny,” Alex says.

“And yet you laugh,” Kyle reminds him and then leaves a soft kiss on his lips.

Alex leans his forehead against Kyle’s. “Yeah, I do,” he admits.

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know.”

“Do you,” Kyle asks, removing his hands from Alex’s pants and resting his palm on his cheek, thumb caressing its apple. “Life’s too short to be angry all the time, Alex.”

“I’m not angry right now.”

Kyle looks down and smiles. “No, you’re not. Thirst looks good on you.”

Alex sits up. “Oh, I’m the thirsty one? After you kiss me out of the blue and drag me into your bedroom, I’m the one who’s begging for it?”

“If the hard-on fits,” Kyle says looking pointedly at the tent in Alex’s underwear.

With a snort, Alex reaches out and palms Kyle’s dick through his pants. “I think you’re sporting a matching package there, Kyle.”

“Ah,” Kyle hisses, hips jerking under Alex’s hand. “Maybe...ah. Alex. Just--fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex chuckles, unzipping Kyle’s pants and pulling his cock out.

“Don’t steal my lines.”

“So, you admit they’re lines.”

Kyle shakes his head and throws his arm around Alex’s shoulder, bringing him closer. A harsh breathe falls from his lips as Alex strokes him, his hips move in gentle thrusts. “You--you confuse me, too,” Kyle says, licking his lips as Alex’s grip tightens. “When I look...when I look at you...shit, ah. When I look at you I see who you were to me, and who I’d like you to be.”

“And who’s that,” Alex asks.

His cheeks are flushed, his eyes flick from Kyle’s to his hand jacking Kyle’s cock, pre-come leaking as he pleasures him.

“My friend,” Kyle says, thumbing at Alex’s lip. His mouth drops as Alex licks at his thumb before sucking on it. He whispers, “Alex,” as a wave of heat rolls through him.

“Don’t stop,” Alex says, pulling out his own cock and rubbing up his shaft. “What else?” 

“More.”

Alex shakes his head no. “What else?”

Kyle whines into his thrust, he’s close. “No, Alex. I want--ah, Alex. Alex, I want _ you _ to be more."

"What do you want me to be?"

"I don't know," Kyle says, his voice shaky as his hands pull at Alex's hair. And he doesn't, not really. He just knows he wishes he could go back to when they were young and make a different choice, but he can't. He wishes he hadn't wasted so much time being scared.

"I--I just want you."

"Well," Alex says, his voice hoarse. "Tonight you have me."

Kyle comes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, but it's not enough to muffle his groan.

Alex follows, muttering, "Fuck," as he spills into his own hand at the sight of Kyle flushed high on his cheeks, sweat leaving a delicate trail around his collar and sliding down his chest to disappear into the fabric of his shirt.

When they come back to themselves, breathing hard and staring at one another, Kyle's the first one to break eye contact as he scoots back and sits up. He tucks himself back in his pants and moves to get off the bed.

"Uh, just...just wait here," Kyle says, "I'll go get a cloth."

Alex blinks and then laughs slightly. "Kyle," he says looking pointedly at his hands. "Where exactly am I going like this?"

Kyle nods. "Right," he mutters and then steps into the bathroom to grab a washcloth from his linen closet and runs it under warm water at the sink.

Returning to Alex, he takes care to wipe both his hands and his chest. He hesitates over Alex's softened cock.

Alex lifts his chin. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Kyle whispers. "This just wasn't what I thought my night was going to be like."

Tucking himself back in his pants, Alex takes the cloth from Kyle's hand and sets it to the side. He leans forward and tugs at the edge of Kyle's shirt.

"Arms up," Alex says. "You can't stay in this."

Kyle looks down. A line of spunk is streaking up his shirt.

Alex carefully helps him remove it, making sure not to get any come in Kyle's hair.

"How did you think your night was going to go?"

"Honestly," Kyle says. "Less shirtlessness and orgasms, more beer and going over some notes for a surgery I have on Thursday. It's routine. I've done it about twenty or so times but each patient is different which means each surgery is different. Same procedures, new set of variables. I like to be prepared."

"I do, too, usually" Alex says. "Not so much tonight though. I wasn't prepared for tonight at all."

"We don't have to talk about it. We can--"

"Kyle," Alex admonishes and reaches out, resting his hand on Kyle's. "You ran your mouth on the porch and you ran your mouth during sex. Do you seriously expect me to believe you're done talking?"

Kyle turns his head toward Alex. He opens his mouth then closes it, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. "That was rude."

Alex shrugs. "I'm rude, and you do talk a lot, always have."

Not knowing what to say to that, Kyle turns Alex's hand over and begins playing with his fingers. "So what do we do now?"

"That's up to you," Alex says.

"And if I want you to stay?"

"Then I will."

"For tonight?"

"For tonight," Alex confirms.

Kyle plants a lingering kiss on Alex's cheek before getting up and pulling two shirts out of his drawer. He tosses one to Alex and puts the other one on.

"Go get your bag," Kyle says. "I'll get the beer. We have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Alex says, grabbing Kyle's hand and pulling him to stand between his legs. He stands up, wincing slightly; he did put too much strain on his prosthetic. He's going to have to take it off soon, rub some aloe on his stub. For now though, he concentrates on kissing Kyle, slow and easy. 

"I'll be back," he says in a terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation just to make Kyle laugh. He succeeds. Kyle's nose scrunches up and his eyes nearly close with mirth.

Kyle shoves at Alex's shoulder lightly. "You're still terrible at that."

"But you laughed," Alex points out with a smile.

"Yeah," Kyle says, smiling, too. "I did."

In the morning, as they exchange goodbyes, the sun is barely up. They stand on the porch, Kyle in scrubs and Alex in uniform, duffle sitting heavy at his feet.

"I'm working a 16 hour shift," Kyle says. "So please try not to need me until Wednesday."

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'll do my best, Valenti."

"You better, Manes, because I'm not investigating anymore alien nonsense until I've gotten some sleep."

"You didn't complain about not getting sleep last night."

Kyle rolls his eyes at Alex's smirk. It is very attractive as he's sure Alex knows but that doesn't mean Kyle's not going to give him grief for it. He thrusts Alex's coffee toward him.

"Last night," he says lowering his voice. "I got a hand job and some good conversation. What exactly am I getting from a sleepless night looking into a case with very few leads?"

Alex takes a sip of his coffee and then steps forward. He kisses Kyle quick but sweet. "You get time with me."

"I already get time with you," Kyle says, voice hushed. Their foreheads are pressed together and he can't help but rub their noses together as well.

"You get _ more _ time with me," Alex says, leaving one more kiss on Kyle's lips and then stepping back. "Thanks for the coffee."

Kyle taps his fingers on his travel mug. They can't linger for much longer otherwise they're both going to be late.

"Call me later," Kyle says. "Early afternoon would be best, that's when I have a break in my schedule."

Alex shoulders his duffle. " Why?"

"I want to know how your meeting goes with your CO," Kyle says. He's worried. Alex's father is gone from Roswell, but he's not gone. The man is slippery, and Kyle's not sure he isn't pulling strings from somewhere somehow.

"It's a routine meeting."

"About you getting discharged. Please just humor me."

With a sigh, Alex says, "Fine," and then the smirk is back and Kyle just wants to kiss it off Alex's face.

"You give a man a hand job--," Alex starts, but Kyle cuts him off with a laughing, "Fuck you," and a gentle shove toward the porch stairs.

"Get out of here, Manes."

"Alright," Alex says, smile a mile wide. "See you, Valenti."

Alex doesn't get too far down the driveway before Kyle's calling him. He turns.

"We good," Kyle asks. It's a loaded question chock full of everything he'd admitted. His feelings, his regrets. What he wants, what he has.

Alex walks back up the driveway and meets Kyle at the steps. "I meant what I said last night," he says softly. "You have more of me than you should, but you have it, so don't--"

"I won't leave you standing there alone again. I promise."

"No promises," Alex says, kissing Kyle's cheek. "Just be there."

"Okay," Kyle says with a firm nod.

"Okay," Alex repeats and heads back down the driveway as Kyle enters the house and gathers his bag. Neither knows what the future holds for them beyond an early afternoon phone call, but it's enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated.


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